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Here something I wish I had writen but, of course, I didnÂ´t. How inmensely grateful I am that Rabindranath decided to write it for me for Â´tis my life and somehow I know itÂ´s yours as well. Read on.

Waiting

The song I came to sing

remains unsung to this day.

I have spent my days in stringing

and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true,

the words have not been rightly set;

only there is the agony

of wishing in my heart.....

I have not seen his face,

nor have I listened to his voice;

only I have heard his gentle footsteps

from the road before my house.....

But the lamp has not been lit

and I cannot ask him into my house;

I live in the hope of meeting with him;

but this meeting is not yet.

Au: Hope springs eternal on the street outside your heart. Light the lamp. Invite Hope in to join you and Love who has arrived recently and has been tinkleing LoveÂ´s melody at your piano and putting a song in your heart for you to sing. Be a good hostess, ignore them not. Give them a good reason to stay.

Tea and crumpets or Mate and empanadas. Makes no difference. Sit them down and tell them what you expect of them. Listen to what they expect from you. Sing the song.

Love,

F

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